


Enslaved, Not Inferior

by grapenight



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapenight/pseuds/grapenight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan might be a slave, but his mind is free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, this is somewhat historical, but kind of funky, not really based in any one place or anything. I got the idea from History class, my teacher was talking about how slaves have always acted a certain way to their owners, for as long as there have ever been slaves, and this came to me, but I play with a bunch of ideas, so it'd be cool if you just rolled with it.

My owner hits me hard in the back of the head. "Go up there, boy, listen to me. Won't it be a relief to get rid of you?" 

I listen to him, mostly because I wan to leave him as much as he wants me to leave. We at least agree on something. 

There's always a chance I could get stuck with someone worse, but I'm willing to risk that for a shot at something better. I believed no slave owner was truly a good person, but I might be able to find one dumb enough they're almost nice. 

Being up there, on the stage, in front of a huge crowd of people that I can tell are evil at heart, it's actually terrifying. I have never had to do this before, I've had the same owner my whole life. He sold my parents away a year ago, though, so I really lost all will for anything. What was it to live when you had nothing worth living for? He decided to sell me too when I wasn't doing as good of a job as he hoped. That was the first sign of hope I've seen in awhile. 

Too many pairs of eyes to count (not that I could count very well to begin with) were staring at me, judging me. A lot of them would probably look me over, I was too skinny, too delicate. A loud voice called out facts, one's about me this time, not some other slaves. I realized this was actually happening to me. If I got lucky, I could be living like a king (as close as a slave can get) tomorrow, but if things go bad, then I could be dead by tomorrow. My life was up in the air. 

I wasn't very interesting, I was marked down as a fairly normal slave, but then again, to them, we're all the same. After they finished talking about me, I could feel everyone looking at me. I looked down to my chained feet, the pressure of the audience getting to me. The silence stretched on for a long time, so much longer than it should, and what if I don't get bought? Will I be sent back? Will I just be killed, because really, what was it to loose yet another chair, to these people? Nothing, absolutely nothing, and the fact that I was human would never even occur to them. 

"I'll buy him," a voice calls out from the crowd. I look up to find the man who said that, who is currently waving a hand in the air to be seen. I cannot see much of him, besides his arm, but from this distance it just looks like a normal arm to me. Not one belonging to an especially nice person, or a fantastically mean one. it was just an arm. Can you tell someone's personality by their arm? 

I was quickly pushed off of the stage and into a waiting area for my new owner to pick me up. I was officially away from my old owner, hopefully this new one won't beat me everyday. Or if he did, he'd at least wait for old bruises to heal before making new ones. My body needed a break from it's harsh treatment, it needed a rest. 

There are a few other slaves in the waiting area, ones who had also just recently been sold. they were all older than me, adults, but they had lost all the light from their eyes. They had dead eyes, they had they eyes of someone who had just given up. I was familiar with those eyes, my father had those same eyes and I wasn't far behind. I made a vow right then to never lose the light I had left, as long as I could help it. 

Maybe someday, I can be me. 

Rough hands, the only type of hands that have ever handled me, pulled on my shoulders, leading me towards what I was guessing was my owner. 

We finally stop in front of a carriage, a godforsaken carriage, how rich was this person, and a young man was leaning against the side. He was beautiful, the kind of person who obviously had a much better upbringing than I had. He was probably in his early twenties, thirty years younger than my previous owner. His eyes were dark, but so damn bright, they could light up all of those slaves' eyes back there and still had some to spare. His hair fell over in a way that looked perfectly intentional, and he was dressed in only the finest clothes. 

I already hated this man. I was going to fight him every step of the way I could. He wouldn't stand a chance. 

I almost felt sorry for what a pain I would be to this man, but then I remembered he was the one buying slaves, he got himself into this. 

"Hello," the man said when I was deposited in front of him. He was so damn charming, how nice, and his voice smooth and beyond pleasant. "I'm your new owner, Brendon Urie." 

"Greetings, master," I say against every single fiber of my being. I knew I needed to act how I was expected for now, because we were still at the sale, I could always be sent back. 

He smiled, obviously pleased by my behavior. Even his teeth were perfect, not crooked in any way. "Let's go now, I'm in a hurry, I can't dilly dally for too long. You'll get along fine with me, if you behave well." 

I wanted to scream to tell him what a stupid asshole he really was. Instead, I nodded respectfully and climbed into the carriage where he told me to. 

The journey wasn't smooth, but it was so much better than the crappy cart my previous own had tugged me here in. 

"What is your name?" Brendon asked. I probably couldn't refer to him as Brendon to his face, how disrespectful, oh my, but in my head I could do as I damn well please. 

I waited before murmuring, "Ryan." 

He repeated my name, as if testing it out on his tongue. "Hmm, I've never heard such a name before. Interesting." 

I resisted the urge to laugh, Of course he hadn't, it was a name native to my people. Maybe he's know that if his people had learned a little about mine instead of enslaving us.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I stay silent during the trip, because that's what's expected of us slaves. I wanted to ask questions, I was a curious person by nature. When I was a child I'd always get in trouble for asking questions when I wasn't supposed to. They tried to beat the habit out of me, it didn't work, I just learned not to voice it. I was still extremely curious.

I stay silent during the trip, because that's what's expected of us slaves. I wanted to ask questions, I was a curious person by nature. When I was a child I'd always get in trouble for asking questions when I wasn't supposed to. They tried to beat the habit out of me, it didn't work, I just learned not to voice it. I was still extremely curious.

Over my life I've learned to watch more, to listen more, that being observant helps a lot when you can't ask questions.

I can't tell much from the carriage ride, besides the fact that Brendon was rich, whoever he was. He had probably been born into his money, handed everything he every needed in life. How nice.

Other than the driver, Brendon, and I, there was no one else. Was Brendon here on his own, or was it like that all the time? I could see no ring on his finger, as far as I guessed he wasn't married. He had better get on that before his time passed. For people like him, life was dedicated to making their own family, having herds of children, stuff of that nature.   
Him not having children would be a great thing for me, on the other hand. Children could be worse than masters, sometimes, especially the bratty ones. They had no limits.

I keep myself entertained with my thoughts for the rest of the ride, because it's obvious that Brendon isn't going to make any conversation. He seems locked inside his own thoughts.

The carriage finally comes to a stop, and I wait to get out until Brendon motions for me to. The driver is standing outside the carriage, glaring at me. I could tell we were going to get along beautifully.

Brendon got out behind me. "Come on, I'll show you where you're staying, I'll let you rest for today."

He led me towards a beautiful, but somewhat small, house. Why was someone with so much money living in such a little house, that didn't make sense to me. He actually led me to the front door of the house, and let me go inside. 

Would I actually get to stay in the house? Before, all the slaves were kept in a little shed outside of the house, which was sparse and barely livable. I had grown up there, so it didn't bother me as much as the older people who had actually lived a normal life before being a slave. My parents were children when the war ended,but they still had memories of before. My mother would tell me about some of the food she would get on special occasions, things that were sweet and wonderful tasting. She told these stories the most when we were forced to go too long with too little food, and it always helped, just imagining the food.

I snapped out of my memories and continued to pay attention to my surroundings. There was a main room, with furniture and tables and a fireplace, then a hall way with closed doors on both sides. I was led to the end of the hallway, and into a small room.

The room had a bed. An honest to god bed. Was I expected to stay in here? it didn't have very much else besides a bed, but that was plenty in itself. I had never slept on an actual bed, I had only seen them before in my master's house. 

I got the feeling that Brendon wasn't going to be the traditional slave master. I could probably use that to my advantage.

I guessed that I was his first and only slave, at least the first he had owned himself, not one that belonged to his parents. 

"You can stay here. Sleep for now, I'll send for you when I need you," Brendon ordered, but he wasn't very forceful with it.

He expected me to lay down on the bed, but I was still shackled together. He had probably forgotten about that, but I sure couldn't. I laid down on the floor, acting like I was going to sleep there.

He looked at me like he was extremely confused. He looked much bigger when I was on the ground looking up at him, but I knew in reality I was taller than him. 

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Sleeping," I stated flatly. "Like you told me to, Master."

In my head, the master part was said very sarcastically, but I knew better than to say it like that aloud.

"Why aren't you on the bed?" He continued to question. I guess no one had ever tried to squash his curiosity.

"What is a bed?" I wasn't going to make this easy on him, I could play dumb very well. I had learned as a child the easy ways to irritate people, and this was one of them.

He looked as if he thought I was joking. I continued to look at him sincerely.

"A bed, it is what you sleep on. That's a bed," he explained, pointing at the bed.

"Do you want me to sleep on that object then?" I ask.

He searched for his response, obviously floored by my act. "Well, yes. You don't have to, but it is customary, isn't it?"

I stare at him, still acting lost. I could tell when he gave up. "Sleep where you want, I'll send for you later." He stormed off then, and I chuckled to myself. This was all easier than I had expected.

I woke up later to a a knock on my bedroom door. I quickly got up and straightened my clothes out, they were a mess from sleeping. They were also just a plain mess from life, but I couldn't really help that.

The short nap I had just had was probably the best I've had my entire life. Sleeping on a bed actually makes a huge difference.

I opened the door to reveal Brendon. He wasted no time in giving me duties to do. "Will you peel five potatoes for dinner tonight, then feed my animals."

I nodded reluctantly and followed him to what I was guessing was the kitchen. There was a sack of potatoes and a knife to peel them with.

Brendon left me there to go do something. I take my time in peeling the potatoes, I was in no hurry at all.

Brendon apparently was. He came back in just as I was finishing the first potato.

"Is that all? It shouldn't take this long!" I expected a slap or a kick, but he just looked disappointed. That was fine by me.

I spent even longer peeling the second potato.

After that I stare at the bad of potatoes for a second. Then I ask Brendon, "How many is five, master?"

I could count perfectly fine, but he didn't know that. And it was certainly worth it to see the pained look on his face. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't great, but I have plans to make it go better in the future, to make things more interesting and stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later, when I was lying in my room, actually making proper use of the bed this time, I laughed to myself. My master wasn't prepared for this, it was too obvious.

He had expected me to be trained easily, and to do whatever he said when he said it. He was expecting a piece of furniture.

Sadly for him, this was what I was not. I was a bird, trapped in a cage, looking for a way out. More than that, I was intelligent. I knew simply running away would get me nowhere, I had to think a little. There was a flaw in this, because I really had no idea how I was actually going to get free, I wasn't even sure how playing my mind tricks were going to assist me on my goals, but I knew it was a starting place.

Brendon thought I was asleep, but little did he know I was just waiting for him to go to sleep before I examined the house. I wasn't going to do anything bad, I just needed to understand my situation. And my situation right now was Brendon. My father had said one time to know your enemies, and I figured Brendon's house would give some good clues about him.

An hour or so after I had retreated to my bedroom, dismissed from my duties, the door slid open. I stayed in my position, faking sleep easily. Brendon left soon enough, probably just checking that I was still there. 

I waited another hour before I slipped out of the bed. I opened the door as quietly as I could.

The house was dark with night and sleep, I knew Brendon wouldn't be a problem right now, and no one else lived in the house. I begun my search.

After I searched the entire house, I laid back on my bed, smiling. Brendon was hiding something. I didn't mean he had an illegal business out of his basement, no I had checked and the other things he had down there are spiders and dust. But he was certainly hiding something. I believed it was himself that he was hiding, who he truly was, because he was too normal, too good. There was certainly something wacky going on with him, I would just have to find out what that was and use it to my advantage. In the mean time, I would continue doing small things to mess with him, like hiding the soap he kept in his bathroom. It was a small enough thing that if he did realize I had done it, I wouldn't be badly punished, and he would probably be greatly irked by losing his soap. 

Other than that, my mission hadn't really had any results. I had found a lot of pretty instruments, nicer than I have ever seen in my life, and a whole room of them, but nothing more was to be expected from this wealthy man. He probably had no knowledge of how to play any of them, or very limited knowledge of them. They were mainly for decoration, a show of look how much money I have. He had probably gotten all that money from his parents who more than likely got it from making profit of forcing my people to work.  
I was lucky with the position I had, it wasn't preferred, but it was certainly better than what I could have had. I was just a house slave, not a work slave. My life wouldn't be good, but it would be better than a lot of my people.

I had dreams of freedom, but for me that was just another night. The weird part was that there was another person with me. Usually in my dreams, I was alone, making it by myself. There would be other people, but they weren't looking out for me, they didn't care for me, they didn't notice me. In this dream, there was someone else, noticing me, more than that, so much more. 

I woke up towards the end of the dream, lost and confused. The feelings of companionship and caring stuck with me, but I couldn't remember the other person, as hard as I tried. I could only remember the feelings.

 

Morning rolled around, and I saw it arrive through the tiny, high up window in my room. Sleep failed me after the dream, and I stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking. 

I had no idea what time I was supposed to wake up, or what I was supposed to do. Brendon obviously didn't have a plan for that, he was very spontaneous, he did things as they happened, and he applied the same attitude to what I was doing. The best thing would be for me to stay in bed, enjoying the space of my own mind while I could.

"Ryan!" A voice called, but not in a harsh and demanding manner, more carefree.

Brendon oped my door, his hair a mess and his clothes wrinkled, his face bright from the full night of sleep. "Can you make some breakfast for me, while I get ready?"

I nodded. He smiled and left.

His smile wavered for a second when he saw his breakfast later. It was a mess, which I knew, of course, and I presented it to him with a positive expression on my face.

"What is this?" Brendon asked, looking at the food with a puzzled expression.

"It was my mothers, a secret recipe. She would make it on our birthdays," I lied blatantly. I didn't even know what I had made, all I knew was that it would be edible, but more than likely not enjoyable.

Brendon shrugged, and took the food, sitting at the table. I waited off to the side, like a good little slave. Deep inside me, I hoped it gave him food poisoning.

"This is good!" Brendon said with his mouth semi-full. "Much better than I had expected."

I kept my face pleased while my heart sunk. I learned something else about Brendon at that point, he wasn't deterred as easily as I thought he would be. I had my work cut out for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long! This iskind of my main priority right now, though, so expect more soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the next month, I developed a routine of sorts.

Over the next month, I developed a routine of sorts. I would get up early in the morning, make Brendon breakfast, clean something, make Brendon lunch, do whatever chore Brendon assigned me then, make Brendon dinner, and then I was dismissed for the night. I would find time within the day to mess with Brendon's head, in little ways. One time I managed to cut a piece of his hair off and he didn't notice for a week. When he did notice, he didn't even suspect me at all, he thought his hairstylist had done it.

I also continued to watch and learn about Brendon. He was suspicious. About once a week he would leave to go to work, but I had no idea what kind of work he did. I assumed it was for his parents, but even then I had no idea what he did. What kind of job only did you only have to go in once a week? He was smart, too, even if he was extremely oblivious to some things, like my mind games. That didn't worry though, because as smart as he might have been, I was clever, I was sneaky, I had been brought up this way, it was what I did best, he wouldn't be a problem at all.

He was a pleasant person, but I don't think he was very happy with his life the way it was. He was probably a dreamer, he wanted a life that was better, greater, even happier. Not that I wasn't the exact same way, but I had reason for it. I hadn't been brought up in a wealthy family, with everything I could ever want handed to me. He was just unappreciative. 

I laughed as I thought this. If he was unhappy with his life, I would gladly change him. I'm sure he would love being a slave, isn't that everyone's greatest wish?

There had to be a reason behind his unhappiness, though, and I knew it would be the key to my freedom, if I could find out what makes him tick.

I also knew he wasn't a solitary person, he enjoyed company greatly, but he rarely had it. In the end, I decided it was because he didn't want to bring people over when he had a new slave and he didn't know how I would behave, so I pushed that observation to the back of my mind.

Today was one of the days he left to go to work. I was alone, given the small task of preparing dinner for the night. It was downright silly of him to do, leaving me with so much free time. I would've thought that would've been in Slave Masters 101, don't give your slave time to think, to sabotage, to live. Maybe he missed that lesson.

It was frustrating though, because I had to perfect opportunity to do something, but I had no idea what that something was. I could only play little tricks on him before it became boring. It wasn't even bothering him very much! it should have been, he should be furious right now! He was a very levelheaded person, too, going off of this.

I hated him, and I couldn't wait for the day where everything he had was brought down in front of his eyes. Or I got my freedom, at which point I would no longer give a fuck what he felt, either one would work for me. 

Only because I was extremely bored and I didn't have any tricks planned, I decided to be a good slave and do some work that wasn't asked of me. I had nothing else to do, and I had been constantly busy doing chores since I could walk. Sometimes it was calming, because I could usually get in a routine of whatever I was doing, and my mind could be free to think what it wanted. Ever since I was a child, I would build up grand stories in my head, ones with great adventure and true love and all the other things. The normal children would read fairy tales, while I made them. I liked it because I could always control the ending, too. Oftentimes, in my stories, the bad guys would end up alone and sad, while the good people would be happy and free. I took to imagining what I wanted from my own life. I never grew out of that habit, so while I began to chop wood that day, I started thinking up a brand new story.

Since I had time, and plenty of wood to chop, I made the story extremely intricate, so I could build on it how I pleased. I was so deep into my story, to my thoughts, that I wasn't aware of my surroundings for at least a few hours. I chopped the wood without thinking, which might have been dangerous, but I had done it plenty of times before that it didn't worry me very much. 

When I did come out of my own mind, it was because of a bird flying by, chirping loudly.

The sun was lower in the sky, and I figured it was late afternoon by that point. I raised my hand to wipe at my forehead. I wasn't really sweating, I didn't sweat much, but I was doing some very rigorous work. As I did, I caught a glimpse of something white behind me. I turned to see Brendon, in a clean cut white shirt, standing about twenty feet behind me. 

He was staring right at me, but his eyes weren't trained on my face. They were slightly lower. I looked down at myself, expecting to see something particularly interesting, but nothing caught my eye. I looked back at Brendon, and he looked like he was almost in a daze or something. Then it struck me that I wasn't wearing a shirt. A normal man would find nothing strange about that, they would proceed on like normal. Brendon was awestruck though. And it appeared that he had been there for at least longer than a few minutes. He had been watching me chop wood, shirtless, and he was absolutely enthralled by it.

He snapped out of it, and looked up at me. "Oh, Ryan, there you are," he said as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "Is dinner almost ready?"

I nodded and he turned to go back inside. After he was gone, I slid to the ground and laughed so much that I almost began crying. 

Brendon Urie sure did have a secret, and I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, yay! I really like how this one ended up, at first I was kind of weary, but then it turned out very well, at least that's what I think. School's been draining me, which is why I haven't been writing as much. Don't worry though, I'm pretty sure things will start picking up soon!


	5. Chapter 5

I didn't have a chance to think about what I had discovered until after I was dismissed for the night. But Brendon was definitely off for the rest of the night, I could tell as much.

When he finally let me retreat to my room, I had to try my best not to sprint there. The hallway seemed longer than ever, each foot a mile in my mind. When I finally got to my room, I stepped in and closed the door immediately, before sinking down on my bed. I hid my face so the humongous smile wouldn't be exposed to the room. I couldn't help it, I could almost taste freedom.

I calmed my thoughts down and managed to sit up. I looked around at the small, albeit much nicer than I have ever been exposed to before, room. I would be gone soon, I knew it. I wouldn't miss it much. 

Brendon Urie certainly had a secret, but everyone does, that was something I had learned over the span of my fairly short life. Everyone, from the richest business owner, to the lowly slave, had something to hide. I suppose it was human nature. Some secrets were worse than others. For example, a slave's secret might be that they stole an extra piece of bread at dinner one night, while a business owner might be hiding a pretty little mistress in his closest. Brendon's was even worse. 

Men finding other men attractive wasn't an unheard of thing, definitely not, but it was something that was shunned by society. I knew if someone, who wasn't just a slave, found out, there would be huge problems in his future. Whatever his parents did to earn all the money they had would be nothing, because the people would never support someone whose child was so disgusting. 

I personally had no problem with this, but I knew I was in the minority. Even within the slaves, something like that was taboo. 

If anyone were to find out, it would ruin poor Brendon's life. I chuckled at the thought. That made me stop and think. I didn't think I was a particularly cruel person, and if I were in normal circumstances I would probably never do something like I was, but these were out of my control, I had to do whatever it took, and sometimes that meant sacrificing my values. I would hurt another person, especially if that person was the reason I was enslaved, if it meant I could be free. I would use Brendon's sexuality against him, and then I would propose a deal. I wouldn't tell anyone if he let me go.

Freedom would be mine easily, as long as I had the heart to do it.

The last part I ha to work out would be how exactly to prove it all, but I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that. He was into men, after all, which I just happened to be. And I didn't know much about how I looked to other people, attraction wise, because I had never had to deal with that, but based on his earlier reaction, I was pretty sure Brendon like my body. The thought was strange ad awkward, but I knew it was true.

My plan would be to seduce Brendon, a feat within itself, and then strike the deal. My stomach twisted with nervousness at the thought, because I could only imagine how much I could embarrass myself with this all, but I pushed that to the back of my mind. I could handle that later, besides, sacrifices had to be made, I already knew that.

Sleep came easy that night, and my dreams were filled with something strange, something new, something that felt like home.

 

While I now knew exactly what measures I had to take to get my freedom, I still couldn't do much. I had no idea how to be attractive to someone, how was it even possible when I didn't even enjoy the sight of myself? 

A week passed with me just watching Brendon. I memorized his schedule and planned out all the possible things I could do. I stopped playing little tricks to mess with him, I let him have a sense of security. On the day he went to work again, I truly began my attempt at freedom. 

The wood needed chopping again, and since it had worked well the last time, I figured it was my best bet. Again, I removed my shirt and started working. I went at a slower pace than I normally would, just to drag this on as long as possible.

I wasn't going to actually have the first move, I would let him do that. If he was going down, I was going to make sure he started it. Tempting him a little bit was no problem, though.

By the time he got home, the afternoon sun was out and I was only slightly sweating. I didn't know if that would actually be a good quality, so I tried my best not to work too hard. Brendon made the same mistake yet again. This time I was fully aware of his gaze on me, not that he knew that. He stood there for minutes, just watching me. I couldn't believe it was working again, but it certainly was. When I went to grab another piece, I made sure to move as seductively as possible. Even though I felt ridiculous, I could tell Brendon was enthralled, yet again. 

After I had played the charade for long enough, I turned around and acted as if I was noticing him for the first time. "Oh, hello, Master," I greeted him, as innocently as possible.

Brendon blushed and released a choked sound, running into the house, but not before I saw an undeniable bulge in his pants.

"That's certainly new," I whispered to myself. The truth be told, I didn't even expect it to work so well.

After that, I made it my routine to chop wood every time he went to work. Brendon knew as much, but that still didn't stop him from coming to stare at me every time. He obviously liked whatever was going, and I prayed that it would work out for me in the end. It struck me that if things did progress further, I would actually have to participate in the events. I had never even done anything with a female before, but I at least knew how that worked. I could guess at how it went between two men, but I really had no idea. I was willing to do whatever it took for my freedom, though, so I accepted whatever might be to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, yay! So I think this is all working out the way I want it too, and I hope you guys enjoy it.


	6. Chapter 6

If I had to admit it, Brendon did more for my plan than I ever did. I was actually terrible at going through with it. I kept with the wood chopping, though, I was extremely good at doing that much. My problem was that I had no idea what else to do.

I was extra nice to him, although since I was kind of his slave, nice wasn't really the right word. I did do everything he told me, and I think that at least made me look good in his eyes. I even stopped playing dumb all of the time. I didn't stop completely, but I definitely cut back, which he should respect. Well, he should if he knew that it was happening in the first place. he probably just thought I had been dropped on my head quite frequently as a child.

"Ryan," Brendon called one day as he got home. He had gone to visit a friend, or colleague, I really had no idea. 

I got to him as soon as I could, keeping up with my good behavior. "Yes, master?" I asked, standing in front of him. He was half in the front door, he face red from some sort of physical activity. He seemed to be struggling with something on the other side of the door.

"I got something today," Brendon said, continuing to struggle with whatever he had. I don't know if I had imagined it, or what, but I thought I heard a small noise come from outside. "And it needs to be cleaned before it can come inside. Do you think you can do it?"

I nodded, not wanting to refuse anything. 

Brendon smiled at that. "Good."

Another sound was made from the other side of the door, and I could fell my stomach turn at it. The sound was unmistakably a bark. 

Brendon opened the door to reveal a dog. I almost ran and hid from fear, but I knew better than that. I needed to look good in Brendon's eyes. The dog was thankfully small, so I was fairly sure it couldn't kill me. It didn't seem extremely vicious, either, but there was really no knowing. 

My previous owner had dogs, and a lot of them. And then even the small ones were just as mean, if not meaner. At least the bites from them were a lot smaller and hurt a lot less. They definitely killed fewer people, too. 

Maybe this dog isn't as bad, I told myself, hoping and praying it was true. I knew there were nice dogs out in the world, but never any that I had been exposed to. This dog is probably one of those. If Brendon had wanted an attack dog, he would have gotten a bigger one, I'm sure of it.

Brendon smiled at the small dog and turned to me. "I found her outside my friend's house. She was apparently one of his neighbors dogs, but the neighbor had too many to take care of so he let her free. The poor girl has been roughing it on her own for too long."

He didn't seem to think the dog was evil in any way, so I relaxed a little bit. Brendon ushered me outside and gave the leash connected to the dog to me. 

The dog pulled on it immediately, trying to run away. Sadly for it, it wasn't that strong.

Brendon just laughed at it's poor attempts of escaping. "I have to go clean myself up after dealing with that ball of mud," he informed me before retreated to the house.

Now it was only the dog and I left. I simply stared at it until it stopped fighting. Eventually, it stared back at me. It was cute, I couldn't believe it. I had no idea dogs could even be cute. Apparently they were very good at it when they weren't attacking you. I found that bit of information very interesting. 

I led the dog to a bucket that I filled with water. The bathing process was long and difficult.

"If you would just sit still this would go a lot faster!" I yelled at one point, after it had moved, yet again, and just made a bigger mess of itself. It just looked up at me with big eyes, completely unaffected. Damn dog.

"It's very nice logic from your end, but I'm afraid she doesn't understand," Brendon chuckled from behind me. I jumped, not expecting to hear his vice, and tripped over onto the ground. The dog wasted no time when I fell, jumping on me immediately, mixing a nice mixture of soap, water, and mud all over me. 

If Brendon, my master, wasn't standing right behind me, I would be releasing any number of curses at this point. It took everything I had to hold it back. Brendon didn't help the situation at all, he just stood behind me laughing.

"She's just a ball of excitement, huh?" Brendon said, and I could feel the anger building. Apparently I had many good reasons for not liking dogs.

The dog came up to me then and licked my cheek. I stared at it, completely dumbfounded. A dog had never been that close to me without removing some skin of mine.

"See, she's saying she's sorry!" Brendon gushed. He really was strange, I had never met a person like him before. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "You know, I think I should put you in charge of her. What do you think we should name her?"

Brendon continued on with a list of questions, but he never really stopped to allow me to answer him. I didn't pay enough attention to, anyways, I was too busy thinking about the fact that I would now have to put up with a stinky dog all of the time.

She licked my cheek again, and I couldn't even force myself to hate her anymore. She, like her owner apparently, was different from anything else of her type I had ever seen before. I was staring to think that it was actually a very good thing, both in her case and in Brendon's.

Life is strange, it seems like everything is changing. Maybe that's a good sign for my future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, there's a puppy! Anyways, I think the next chapter will be tons of fun (maybe beyond awkward, who knows) so stay tuned!


	7. Chapter 7

The dog was a pain. She was a constant ache in my side. But in a strange way, I loved it. She distracted me from anything else I had to do, and I was never bored. My life had molded into a constant cycle of do my duties, then watch the dog. 

The Brendon issue was still big, but I almost forgot about it, sadly. I could worry about that later. I think the dog might have been brainwashing me.

Brendon continued to tell me that I couldn't keep calling it the dog, that she needed a name. I had thought to name it after my mother, but then that might have been strange. I didn't know.

A big event that didn't involve the dog was that Brendon was bringing people over to his house for the first time. I had been constantly lectured to be on my best behavior, although Brendon's lecturing wasn't as harsh as most. He was more like begging me. It was a pretty silly thing for a slave master to do, but by that point, that was exactly what I had expected from Brendon.

"Can you make something really nice for dinner, could you? For several people?" Brendon asked, concern in his eyes.

"Anything you say, Master," I droned on. Instead of looking pleased, like he should have, since I was cooperating perfectly, he looked slightly sad and disappointed. I had no idea why, I was behaving perfectly. He was clearly messed up in the head, which must explain his attraction to me. The same gender, I can see that, possibly more than I should. But me, a beaten, frayed slave, there was no reason to find me attractive. It would ultimately be his downfall.

The looked passed quickly enough, and Brendon went on to worry about some other matter. I began to prepare dinner, the dog on my heels.

"You don't have to be next to me at all times, space would be joyous," I informed the puppy. It had an opposite affect on it, if anything it got even closer. "Silly dog."

Dinner would actually be edible that night, I made sure of it. I had to have Brendon's reputation at the very top before I could tear it down, or that was at least what I told myself. Sometimes my motives for certain acts were unclear even to myself.

The time passed with speed, soon enough there was a knocking at the door. The dog barked weakly before going back to sleep at my feet. It was a pitiful little thing.

"I'll get it," Brendon called. It was customary for the slave to answer the door, for that is too much physical activity for a master, but of course. Brendon didn't follow that social norm, either.

"Zack, hi! I'm glad to see you, it's been so long!" I could hear Brendon say from the other room.

A gruff voice replied, "It's been a week, Brendon, calm down."

I held back a laugh. Apparently other people found Brendon just as ridiculous as I did.

"Nonetheless, I'm so glad to see you! And Ryan, my slave, he's making a wonderful dinner for us tonight, it'll blow your mind," Brendon promised.

"Are you sure that's safe? He won't tamper with it?" The other voice asked with caution. I should poison it, just for him being so judgmental. I could never kill another person, if I did I could never live with myself afterwards.

"Not Ryan, he's great, really!"

I could practically hear the look of worry on the other man's face from the other room. Brendonw as fairly innocent, this much I knew, and I'm sure the man, Zack, thought I was taking advantage of it. I was, of course, but not in the way that would kill him. Yet again, I'm not that cruel. Just a little cruel. 

Before either of them could reply, the door knocked yet again. 

"Oh, that's Jon I'm sure!" Brendon exclaimed as he opened the door. "Jon!"

"Nice to see you, buddy!" The new voice replied, and I could already tell the vast difference between him and Zack. Jon sounded laid back, carefree, and happy.

After the men talk for awhile, catching up, Brendon declares, "It's dinnertime, come!"

The first time Brendon's friends saw me, the very first reaction was laughter. "This is your slave? He's a twig, how is he worth anything?"

Zack was a big, tough looking guy, exactly what I had expected. I didn't think I liked him at all. It took all of my effort not to glare at him.

"Ryan's an amazingly hard worker, he's great," Brendon boasted, not at all thrown off by his friends comments.

"So where's this food I was promised?" Jon interjected, changing the topic completely.

"Sit down at the table and you'll get it," Brendon said with extreme excitement. He was a people person, having more people around certainly made him more lively. It made me wonder if he didn't get a slave partly because he wanted another person around at all times. I quickly dismissed that, because it would be crazy even for Brendon.

I brought the food over to the three of them, and I could tell Brendon was amazed by how good the food looked. I don't know why, but his enthusiasm had kind of spread to me, and I wanted his friends to be impressed by him. The situation itself was fucked up, I couldn't even try to reason it out at this point. I hated him, but at the same time, i felt for him? There were people I definitely hated more in the world? I had no idea.

After I gave them the food, I asked if they needed anything, and when they didn't, I disappeared like a good slave.

I couldn't sort out my feelings, I had no idea.

I found myself outside, laying in the yard, staring at the sky. The stars were the same. They would always be there, I guess. Are stars free? They're in space, just hanging around, but are they really free? What qualifies as free? They can never move, they only change when they die, but they don't die for millions of years. Right now, they are locked in place in the sky, for our viewing pleasure. Just the false face of freedom.

The dog was lying with me, pleased as she could possibly be with her life. Maybe she was free. She wasn't really free at all, but she felt like it, she could run, jump, and chase after birds as she pleased, there was nothing holding her back besides her need to eat, sleep, live, but none of those were negatives to her. 

I realized at that moment I was probably thinking too hard, because hours had passed in the small window of my thought.

Inside, Brendon's friends were gone, and Brendon was nowhere to be found. It was strange. I had thought he was asleep, but a quick look in his room told me otherwise. When I did find him, I don't know why I was looking for him, he was lying on the floor of the main room, like I had been outside. Beside him was an empty bottle of alcohol.

I should have just left him there, went to bed and pretended I knew nothing. Of course, I didn't. 

"Sir?" I asked, walking towards his spot on the floor. "Are you alright?"

Why did I care, I shouldn't care about his life. I should care as much as he did mine, which should be none. We lived in a world of people who should not care about each other, those who do not. Obviously, Brendon and I didn't behave how we should.

"Ah, Ry-ry-ry," Brendon stuttered, unable to get my name out. He giggled. "Ry-ry-ryan. I like they sound of that, don't you? Sounds like a song, a poem! Oh Ry-ry-ryan was as pretty as a poem, I'd give you that much."

I stood in shock, not able to process what was happening. Brendon sat up abruptly. "Ryan," He whispered. "Somehow, I like you better than most of my friends. All of my friends, maybe. Well, no, I like Jon, I think he has a soul. Although, what does a soul account for anymore, based off of my life choices," He said the last two words with a harsh tune, "most folks would say I didn't have one. You know what I'd say to them? Fuck them, yes, that's right."

Brendon stood up, slightly unstable, but determined. He wobbled ever so gracefully over to me before wrapping his arms around my waist lazily. My mind clicked into place then, I knew where this was going. I also knew that Brendon was drunk, but not drunk enough to not remember any of this. He wasn't that drunk. He was just enough to drastically lower his inhibitions, though.

"You're so pretty, I wonder if you have a soul," Brendon remarked before he leaned in, pushing his lips against mine, somewhat sloppily. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, it was wrong on almost all of the levels, but then I remember my plan, my goal, and just what it took to get there. This just happened to be on the right track.

Brendon's friends had messed up his head like they had mine. They had a worse affect on him, which is why he began drinking in the first place. Brendon knew he was different, he knew he was strange, and he had been told, possibly forever, that anything like that was wrong, so extremely wrong. Right now he didn't care.

The kiss was short, wet, and soon Brendon pulled back, tears running down his face. "I did it, didn't I?"

I nodded, not sure what kind of response he wanted. Instead of doing anything that I could have expected, he crumpled to my feet, sobbing slightly.

I don't know why, but I sat down, and hugged him, trying to comfort him. 

I told myself that I hated him, and that this was all part of the plan. Maybe it was. but I didn't have to think about comforting him, it just happened, and the plan would have taken thinking, wouldn't it have? I comforted him like I would a small helpless child, becaus really, that's what he reminded me of. Nothing was sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are able to understand what's happening, because things are just going to get more messed up from now. Ryan likes to think, he will think, a lot. Strange things will happen, and yeah, I just hope you guys like this.   
> On another not I'm so sorry this took so long, especially if anyone has been waiting for it. I try to do things as fast as possible, but sometimes I get lazy. It'll be summer, soon, though, so hopefully that'll mean a lot of time for writing and that kind of fun stuff.


	8. Chapter 8

When the bright morning sun woke me up the next morning, I knew something was off. I always pulled my curtains together during the night, so sun never got into my room. But even more, I always woke up before the sun could get fully bright, with all the remnants of the night gone. 

My eyes slowly adjusted to the room around me, which turned out to be the main room. That brought back the drowsy memories of the night before, and I realized I must have fallen asleep on the floor without even realizing it. Judging by the fact that Brendon was curled around me, he had to. I mentally cursed myself. How could I be so stupid and reckless? I don't think this would help me at all, it would more than likely just confuse Brendon, probably make him mad. Things would get even worse for me.. He might even turn into a proper slave owner. I cannot let that happen. 

I turned my head slightly to look at his face, which was extremely close to mine, but luckily it was just as much asleep. His entire body was pressed up against mine, with his arm thrown over my chest and one of his legs between mine. Getting away from him would be hard, but if I could do it successfully, maybe he would wake up and not remember the night before at all. Or he might just think he had an insane dream. 

As soon as I moved barely an inch, he was awake. He was apparently a very light sleeper, which was ridiculous to think, because I had rummaged around his house countless times, and not too silently, but he had never woken up from up. Why did I have to have the worst luck? 

"What? Why..." Brendon started to ask, before he opened his eyes wide, seeing the positions we were in. "Oh shit, shit, I feel like I got beaten half to death, but goddamn, my memory is still intact." 

I stopped breathing, waiting for the yelling, or possibly the hits. Brendon had never hit me before, but slave masters are slave masters, and I knew it would happen sooner or later. They're all sure the only way to get something into a slave's head is to beat it there. It was definitely left an impact, but more often than not it just resulted in more retaliation. Most people didn't realize being a slave had no effect on one's intelligence. If they were smart, they would still be smart. Uneducated, sure, but not dumb in the least. There was a very large difference between idiocy and being uneducated. 

The hits did not come yet, Brendon continued to talk. "I have no idea what to do now. I shouldn't have kissed you, that's for damn sure, I wish I can take that back, but since that isn't possible, I have to face the consequences in some form." 

It shocked me that he addressed the problem so openly, there was no beating around the bush. He pulled back from me, letting me go, and sat cross legged on the ground. I mirrored his actions, still not saying a word. 

"I could sell you, that's an option, but at the same time it isn't at all. I like you, I cannot get rid of you. Besides, I think it's obvious now that you know to much to be sent away. You could ruin me, and I know you know that. Homosexuality is so forbidden, I would be ruined even if the only evidence was coming from a slave's mouth. I'm in such a bind here." 

Brendon was a constant surprise in himself, I never knew what kind of reaction I'd get. He was cut from a completely different mold than anyone I had ever know. It was like he was pushed into a mold, but broke out of the sides, he formed what he wanted. 

"You're in a bind, too, though, aren't you?" Brendon realized. "You stayed here, you comforted me, and I'm pretty sure that wasn't just from the kindness of your heart, because if I had to guess you have no kindness for any person like me. But something made you do it." 

"No, no, really, I felt bad, you were unwell," I protested, trying to play the concerned slave card. That was a lie, most slaves would kick their owners if they saw they were dying. 

"I'm sure," Brendon replied with an amused look on his face. "This might be me just jumping way out of lines, but I think we've already fucked all lines up," Brendon continued before moving close to me, sitting right in front of me. 

I realized then that he thought I was interested in him. He thought that I had liked the kissing. I also realized that was exactly what I wanted him to think. This was actually working out very well. 

He looked at me, and I was afraid he might see the lies inside my head, because his eyes were so clear and strong, I was sure they could see everything. Obviously they weren't all knowing, because Brendon took ahold of my chin and leaned in, his lips covering mine.I sat still and straight, and just let him do what he pleased, repeating one word in my mind; freedom. 

He pulled back slightly, but not all the way. "You have no idea what to do, do you?" 

I had no idea how to think at this point. I could feel his breath puff across my lips and it made me dizzy. I had no idea. 

"Just move your lips, follow my lead," Brendon instructed, giggling slightly. My heart thumped, worry rushing through my body. There's no way that I can do this properly and pull it off. 

Before I could pass out from thinking too hard, Brendon's lips were back on mine, and I just let go of all of my thoughts and followed his lead, moving my lips like he was. 

It felt good, somehow, and I went with it. This was the easiest and hardest thing I had ever done, but hopefully it would get me where I needed to be. 

My thoughts left again, to be replaced with lips, hands, and movement that was insanely new and strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this! I completely plan on posting these faster from now on. I don't know why but I've been extremely slow with this lately, I'm sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

Kissing Brendon turned out to be an activity that took a long time. After a few hours of us sitting on the floor, we were still going. By that point, Brendon's arms were thrown around my shoulders, relaxing there. I wasn't sure what to do with my hands, so they were left at my sides for awhile. At some point, without me even realizing it, one of my hands came up to sit at his hip, softly playing with the fabric there.

A knocking from the front door was what finally forced us apart. 

Brendon looked at me with wide eyes and ran a hand through his hair, trying to organizing it after since it was a mess from the night's sleep. "Shit, was someone supposed to come over?" He asked me.

I didn't know things like that, so the question was pointless. Someone came over anyways, whether they were supposed to or not. 

Brendon stood up, ran a hand over the front of his shirt and headed towards the door. 

"I'm just going to go, uh, clean," I said. I'm a slave, I should be working now. The last thing I needed was for someone to guess at what we were doing, or even worse, think I was slacking off and try to get Brendon to sell me.

Brendon nodded and smiled at me. He had a good smile, it was completely pleasant and bright. I took a few seconds to admire it before I realized exactly what I was doing, gawking over my master. Well, at least if I was screwed, so was Brendon, because he was staring back at me with an extremely similar expression. I could definitely use his foolishness against him, but I had no idea if he realized he could do the same. What a mess.

Luckily, other messes were much easier to deal with, like the kitchen. When Brendon was drunk, he had no care for organization of any sort. 

I could hear voices coming from the living room, but I couldn't make out what they were saying, or who the other voice was. It was male, but that meant nothing, because there was an abundance of them. It would be much more shocking if there was a female here. Maybe that explained Brendon's sexuality.

Part of me was worried that the person at the door might have known what was going on in here, from seeing us, or hearing, or from the entire world being against me, but considering no one came to find me and beat me, or anything like that, I figured I was good.

After awhile, I forgot about even trying to listen to the voices as I cleaned. Organizing things was fun, and it kept my brain and body busy. 

"Ryan! Come here!" Brendon yelled at some point, maybe an hour later. I followed his voice to the main room, and I found him there, alone. I wanted to ask who was at the door, but that wasn't something that I needed to know. I'm a slave, what should concern me is cleaning and work. 

"Yes, master?" I asked, falling into routine. I only had to do this for a couple more weeks, and then I would be free. I was so much closer now, soon I could be anything I wanted. I really only wanted to be me, which I surely wasn't now. I wanted to live, to make a fucking choice for myself.

"Come here," Brendon repeated, smiling, and then the true intent of his words hit me, and I noticed he was sitting in a chair. Sure, maybe I wasn't myself now, I was held back by having to be a slave and the main restraints that brought, but I was already building myself. I made the choice to be free, I made the choice to do whatever it took for me to get there, and right at that moment, I chose to go, sit straight in Brendon's lap, and kiss him, holding his face in my hands.

I was playing in dangerous territory, but luckily for me, Brendon liked that, a lot, going by the small, pleased sound he made, and his enthusiasm showed by his lips. 

There, sitting on Brendon's lap, his hands on my side, fingers softly rubbing my back, I was almost happy. At one point, I thought I didn't like Brendon, but now, I wondered how I would feel about him if he didn't own me, if no one did. 

We might just be doing the same thing now, even if I weren't a slave, because I had to admit, there was no way I could dislike Brendon. Screwing up his life would be difficult for me, because he didn't deserve it. He was a good person, probably one of the best I had met in a long time. 

At the same time, none of the enslaved people really deserved their lives.

I left these thoughts in exchange for kissing Brendon. I would work things out, eventually, and maybe I could do it without screwing Brendon over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is so short, the next one will be longer, AND some changes are coming for Brendon and Ryan.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a month passed, and a completely new pattern had formed between me, Brendon, and the dog.

About a month passed, and a completely new pattern had formed between me, Brendon, an the dog. 

Poppy was the name I had given to the dog. I figured she needed one, and since I couldn't really think of one, I chose something that sounded like puppy. It fit her well. Poppy was a hyper little mess, much like Brendon. My time was constantly split between entertaining her, entertaining Brendon, and cleaning, which Brendon seemed to forget I was even supposed to do. He would constantly interrupt me while I was in the middle of a task with light little kisses wherever he could reach. I couldn't tell him I was busy, he was my master after all, so I had to stop and turn around to face him, joining in whatever activities would occur next. Those times were always the most fun. 

Poppy, on the other hand, had random moments where she needed to be played with, and she would take no for an answer. I think she and Brendon worked together to decide who got my attention when, because the two times never correlated. One day, when I was cleaning up Brendon's room, I was miraculously left alone by both of then. I had made good use of my day, and the entire house was neatly arranged, with the exception of Brendon's room, which I was working on. He didn't quite understand the idea of organization, especially in his room, so he would just throw random items and leave them where they landed. My job was to keep find some sort of organization for everything. 

Brendon had a lot of clothes, and they were everywhere. It was different for me to see insanely nice clothing just sitting on the floor, bundled up. I was amazingly careful with the clothes I had, I had always been that way, because it was necessary. If something broke or was ruined in some way, I couldn't replace it. Brendon didn't ever have to deal with that problem. 

It was nice that I got to pick up, organize, and wash his clothes, though, because I loved them. A part of me was insanely jealous of the amazing of him because of what wonderful materials he had, and seeing and holding them was this much closer to actually wearing them. Another part just loved the smell of Brendon that radiated off of his clothes. It was almost comforting, safe. Overall, cleaning Brendon's room was my favorite thing. 

The soft footsteps heading towards me were the only sign I had that someone was approaching. I turned around and dropped the shirt I had been in the process of folding, coming face to face with Brendon. He was in his work clothes, the ones he always wore to his job, and I still had no idea what that was. I could possibly ask him, because even though that might be out of line for a slave to do, I was a completely new type of slave at this point. I wasn't a work slave like I had always been, even though I still did all the cleaning and stuff for Brendon. he didn't really tell me to do anything anymore, I just did it. And if he wanted something done, he would ask me, not order me, and sometimes he'd even help me out. 

One time, he tried to help me peel potatoes for dinner. It was that night I learned that Brendon is absolutely inept at doing any sort of food preparation. Not only did he end up accidently throwing the knife he using to cut the potatoes twice, he also cut his finger. At that point, I made him quit and bandaged up his finger. 

"I tried, doesn't that count?" Brendon had said as I cleaned his cut. 

"Definitely, it counts for a lot. But you are an absolutely terrible potato peeler, you should probably leave it to the professionals for now on," I joked. Conversations like this had become normal between us, and at first I was complete uncomfortable of saying whatever came to my mind, but after the first couple times when Brendon had been completely delighted by me doing it, I just let it happen all the time. He would always joke back. 

"Oh, the professionals, huh?" Brendon smiled, pulling his hand from me and standing up off of his chair to push me back against the wall. He leaned in close and whispered, "I assume by that you mean yourself. Are you a professional now? I'm not sure if you have all the qualifications, it's a mighty tough job." 

"I'm certainly more qualified than you are," I shot back. He just smiled and leaned forward the rest of the way, pressing our lips together. 

This was what Brendon and I were, so I'm not sure what I was. Closer to freedom, maybe. 

Back in his bedroom, in the present day, Brendon smiled as he saw me and walked up to me to wrap his arms around my middle and kiss my cheek. "It makes things a lot easier to just find you in my bedroom, you know. It's a lot less we have to move to the bed." 

At the he pulled me towards the bed, and we slid down, arranging ourselves comfortably, kissing at that point. I was not a sex slave either. I was far from it, we had not even had sex. And Brendon cared for me, somehow, and that was already enough to not qualify me as a sex slave. I truly had no idea. I didn't ponder that much because I was distracted by a leg Brendon had slid between my own. He pressed it down gently, and I couldn't help the gasping noise that escaped my mouth. We had not had sex, but that is not saying we had not done other things. Brendon was always in charge, because I had absolutely no idea what to do. It was best to just go along with whatever he was doing. It seemed to be the right thing to do, too, because Brendon always seemed to like it. 

We continued to kiss, our mouths softly sliding together, while he rocked back and forth slightly. All of these experiences were completely new to me, and they were completely wonderful. 

Soon his hand was under my old, worn out shirt, pulling it up. I helped him with it, and soon I was shirtless. I hated my body, I was all skin and bones from years of not having enough food. I had been self conscious the first time, but Brendon practically worshiped me, kissing every inch of my torso, so by now I didn't care. I did notice that Brendon started giving me more and more food after he saw me the first time. I made no comment though, and by this point, I was sure I was eating more than he was, which was a completely unheard of concept. 

Returning the action, I tugged on his shirt, making my intentions known. He removed it quickly, exposing beautiful skin, and I immediately ran my fingers across it, like I had every time. He was amazing. 

I thought I heard barking, and I knew Poppy wanted to play, and for a moment I considered going to find her, but that though vanished when Brendon's mouth sucked on my neck, drawing a sound from my mouth. 

Brendon pulled away to smiled at me, "You're so beautiful," he said, his eyes staring straight into mine, before he returned back to me neck. His hand fell down to my pants, sliding down past the waist to press softly against the outline of my dick. He moved slowly, so teasingly, wonderfully slow that I whined softly. His tongue flicked out across my neck as his hand pressed in a bit hard, sending a wonderful wave of feeling to shoot through me. 

The pressure was gone, completely missing form all over my body, and I saw Brendon being torn away from me. Fearing raced through me, completely paralyzing me. I couldn't move at all, I just watched the scene, terrified. 

The person who had a hold of Brendon was Jon, his friend who I had seen a couple of times. He was my favorite, and much better than the one other friend I had met, Zack. Jon was a good person. I couldn't understand why he was here, ripping Brendon up off of me. I couldn't think properly. 

Brendon was as shocked as I was, half naked and wide eyed. "Jon? What...?" 

"Fuck, Brendon, what the fuck are you doing? Do you know what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into? Don't answer that, I just want you to listen to me. I assume you've been doing this," Jon gestured to the bed, to me, "for awhile. Little Tim, Zack's son, he came here, Zack had asked him to get something from you, an apple, or something like that. He was able to get in from your front door, and he was looking for you. He found you, he followed the noises. He saw this. After that, he ran away and told his dad. He's young, Brendon, but he's old enough to understand what was happening. Zack believed him, and as we speak he's coming here, coming to get you. I don't know exactly what he has planned, but you know it's not good. You know what happens to people who do stuff like this. It's going to happen to you now, Brendon, how could you be so stupid?" 

I watched Brendon as Jon told his story, and as he went along, Brendon got more and more white as he went along, and by the end he looked like a ghost. He didn't look healthy at all, and he was scared to death, I could feel it from here. If I didn't feel the exact same fear, maybe I could get up and help him, like I wanted to, but the fear was just as strong in me, and all I could do was curl myself up against the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest, making myself as small as I could. 

Jon looked at Brendon, waiting for him to say something, to respond in some way. When he didn't Jon said, "I can help you Brendon, you have a way out of it. We can tell them he forced you, that he threatened you, and that you had no choice if you wanted to live. They'll go after him, you'll be okay, though, they won't bother you, and you'll be safe. Does that sound good to you?" 

Brendon was still terribly white, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking by his facial expression. I was scared to death, but at the same time, I accepted that it was the end for me. I was as good as dead. A slave who disobeys his master is punished enough, if one was to force their master into this, well, they would be killed for so many reasons. I wouldn't be getting my freedom after all. 

As I thought it through, though, it was still okay this way. I might not get my freedom, but Brendon would still have his life, his mostly normal life. That was good enough to me, it could be an apology for how much I used him. I was going to take him down, this was just karma getting to me. Even now, when I couldn't make myself betray Brendon, I couldn't deal with myself if I ruined him, I was still using him, even if I didn't want to. I guess it's better that he wins, he deserves it. He's been completely sincere, while I have not. It had gotten to the point where it couldn't end well for both of us, no matter what happened. He deserved his life a lot more than I did. 

I had given up hope on my life, my one wish would just be that they killed me quickly. I almost voiced that wish, but Brendon spoke before I got the chance. 

"But," he said, voice shaking, but slowly gaining confidence. He stared straight at me before continuing. I stared at how pretty he was, his big lips and amazing body, his beautiful hair and his whole entire tremendous personality. At this moment, I would gladly die, just so he could smile and be Brendon for the rest of his life. "I can't do that, Jon." 

Brendon breathed in before whispering the next part, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. "I love him, Jon, I love him so much, I couldn't do that." 

Brendon stared straight at Jon as he said this, then he turned to me and looked at my curled up form, making myself even smaller than I usually am. I was pretty sure he had just said he loved me, but that made the situation even worse. He shouldn't be so stupid. I couldn't voice this though, I was still too terrified. He walked towards me, sat down on the bed, and pulled me into his arms. "You're okay, we'll be okay, I promise," he whispered into my ear, and I relaxed instantly, even though he was in absolutely no positions to be soothing someone. He was just as scared as I was. Despite this, I turned towards him and threw my arms around him middle and hid my head in his head, trying not to cry. I was weak. 

"Fucking hell, I knew I should've expected something like this," I heard Jon say. "I have another plan in that case. I've got this friend, a few towns over, and you can go hide with him, as long as we can get you out in time. This will not be fucking easy at all, but I'm going to help your dumb ass out, because I'm you're best friend and I fucking love you." 

"Really, you're going to help us? Both of us?" Brendon asked, and I could hear the excessive hope in his voice. 

"Yes, I am. Just get dressed and grab whatever you absolutely need, quickly. First, we have to get you out of town, then we can worry about other things. Hurry, before the Zack gets here." 

Brendon pulled away from me, but took a hold of my hand, pulling me with him. He pulled a random shirt over his and head and tossed one to me, then grabbed a bag and started filling it with whatever clothes and important items he could find laying around. I pulled the shirt he gave me over my head, and it was one of his, probably the nicest shirt I have ever worn. it was a bit loose, but it felt amazing anyways. By the time I was done with that, Brendon was leading me out of the room and towards the backdoor, where Jon was waiting outside. 

"Do you have everything you need?" Jon asked, not looking at me, just talking to Brendon. 

"Yes," Brendon said, holding up the bag and grabbing my hand. 

Jon smiled a little at that, "You're lucky you're fucking adorable, you know. It makes me a lot less mad about the fact that you just fucked up your life. Really, I should've seen this coming, you never did like following the rules. I guess it's wrong for people to be tortured, maybe even killed, just for loving someone. You're going to make it, Brendon, I support you, I'll make sure." 

Brendon smiled at him, "Thank you so much, really. I'm sorry, but it's how I am, and it's Ryan and he's just, he's amazing, really." 

It was strange to hear someone talking about me in such an adoring tone, so lovely. He looked over at me, and I could see it in his eyes. He really did care. 

"He better be. Okay, they'll be coming soon, you need to get out of town as fast as possible. Just don't get caught, okay? go through backyards, hide behind trees, do whatever it takes. Go to the east edge of town, hide in the trees behind Mrs. Hill's house. She's so old she wouldn't notice if you were there anyways. I'll be there at night fall, okay, and then we will work on everything else." 

"Okay, thank you so much Jon, I owe you everything," Brendon said. 

Jon nodded and after that, Brendon led me off, towards the east edge of town. We got there without being seen by anyone, miraculously, and Brendon led us to a small area surrounded by trees. 

"We'll stay here until Jon comes, we should be good." Brendon sat down on the ground, and I copied him. 

"Thank you," I whispered, looking towards the ground, too scared to look at Brendon. "I was prepared to die, you know, just to keep you safe." 

Brendon's hand cupped under my chin and tilted my head up to look me in the eyes. He was so close, and his eyes were burning through me. "I wasn't lying, I do love you, I could never let you die. I'll make sure we get out of this, we will be able to live a happy life, and you wont have to be a slave anymore. Really, you haven't been a slave to me for a long, long time." 

We didn't talk after that, we just let the words sink into the trees around us. I slid closer to Brendon, and laid my head on his shoulder. He responded by putting his arm around me, and I thought that maybe we had the chance to work things out, and to live happily. Maybe we could do it. 

Jon found us when he said he would, and he brought a bag of food with him, enough to last us the few days the journey would take. He had a friend, Spencer, and he gave us a letter to give to him when we got to his house, to inform him of the situation. Jon promised Spencer would let us stay with him, and that he'd help us out to make out own lives, our new ones. Jon gave Brendon the directions, and then we were ready to go, apparently. Brendon hugged Jon tightly and thanked him. I stood a few feet away, just watching. When they parted, Brendon started to walk away, I followed, before remembering something important. 

"Could you," I began to ask Jon. "Could you take care of Poppy? She's the dog, and I didn't get the chance to get her. She doesn't like to be alone and..." I broke off, trying not to cry. 

Jon's expression softened, "Yeah, I can take care of the dog, no problem. Go on, now. Be safe." 

Brendon nodded, and then then pulled me away, walking away from Jon, away from the town Brendon grew up in, to an entirely new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long I'm terrible, I need to step it up. But this is longer than the rest of the chapters, isn't it? I hoped you liked it anyways! Next we get to see where they end up, woo!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We were lost, lost in our own minds, but never straying from the real path underneath our feet.

It didn't take very long before we discovered that neither Brendon nor I were very good at walking. I was used to physical activity form the work I had to do, but walking was not part of my job. Brendon was in no better shape for this. 

About five miles in, we were both exhausted. Brendon looked up at the sky, and the sun, which was slowly sliding down. "We could probably go a couple more miles and then it'll be dark," he observed. 

I nodded, too exhausted to talk. 

When the daylight started to leave for good, Brendon found a good place for us to stop for the night, under the cover of trees. We set up for the night, laying some blankets on the ground, and a few more on top of that in case it got cold. We were lucky it was still warm, and the night wouldn't get dangerously cold. We would be safe. 

I fell down on the blankets as soon as I could, absolutely exhausted. Brendon laughed at me slightly before following my lead. We laid on the ground, watching the sky and the stars, which were starting to show up. At one point Brendon threw an arm around me and pulled me close to him. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered into his side. 

His hand found my face, and he tilted my head up to meet his eyes. "Don't be sorry, it was just as much my fault as yours, if not more." 

I let out a breath and prepared myself for what I was about to say. "I'm sorry for more than that. I had this plan. For awhile. I noticed you were, well, different. I planned to use that against you." 

I choked back tears, feeling terrible for what I had to admit to. "Please, don't think I used you the entire time, I didn't, it was different than I thought, you are such a good person, I actually felt things, I didn't expect that. I didn't know this would happen. I regret it. But I do not regret fighting for my freedom." 

I looked into his eyes, trying to read his expression. He was fairly neutral. He said nothing. 

"Please say something. Let me know how I can fix this. We're in this together now, we need to fix this. Unless you don't want me anymore. We could always go back, go for Jon's original plan, blame it all on me. I would do that for you, now," I informed him. I was just trying to make this right. I no longer had any right to use Brendon for my own benefit, but I'm not even sure I had any in the first place. 

"Not that, never that," he said, but he was still unreadable. I stared at him, waiting for him to continue, giving him time. "I am, well, I am lost to tell the truth. I'm not sure what to believe, I feel like... I'm not even sure. Let's just sleep, can we finish this tomorrow?" 

I nod, agreeing with him, because at this point I would do anything for him. 

Those were the last words said aloud that night. Any and all other words were said silently, in our heads. 

I suppose I had gotten that freedom that I had been willing to do anything for, but it was more bittersweet than I had expected, much more painful. Goddamn Brendon, ruining my life. I laughed silently, thinking that Brendon was probably saying that exact same thing, my name replacing his. 

At this point, we were just a couple of lost boys. 

 

 

In the literal sense, we weren't very lost at all. Brendon was wonderful at following directions, and we were on the right path to Spencer's. But in our minds, we were extremely lost. 

I didn't know exactly how Brendon felt until the next night, when we stopped for sleep again. It was then when he opened up to me, after a day of stony silence. 

"How am I supposed to feel right now, Ryan? I've been honest about every fucking thing I've said, this whole entire time, where as far as I know, you've been wearing a mask ever since I met you. I've tried so hard, I just love you, alright, and I probably shouldn't, there is every reason not to, except for the fact that I know what I'm feeling, and I trust my instincts enough to go for it. I would fucking fight for you Ryan, while you'd just sit on the sidelines, betting for the opposing side. Do you know how much that hurts?" Brendon ranted, barely stopping to breathe. I let him get everything out before I even though about saying a word. 

I slid closer to him, in our bundle of blankets, and grabbed ahold of his hand. He was stiff, but he didn’t push me away. "You have to look at it through my shoes. I am a slave, and to most people, even you at some point, I am only slightly more important than a piece of furniture, and that's only because I do work for you. Can you even imagine how that feels? I was torn away from my parents, they'll never get to see me grow old, get married, have children. But then I wouldn't have gotten those chances anyways, because I'm a slave. And if I would have, it wouldn't have been from love, it would be for the purpose of creating more work hands to please my master. I wasn't seen as a human, but I assure you, I am. I feel things, I bleed, I love, we are all people, nothing makes me any less than you. I am in this situation because my race was on the losing side of a war, not even a war we wanted to fight in. We had no say. So imagine this, you are me, and you see a golden opportunity, the only one you have ever seen in your life. You could be a human, you could follow your dreams, and the only repercussion would be the punishment of someone who had been the enemy my entire life. You would be a liar if you said you wouldn’t take the chance." 

Brendon sat for a second, my words sinking in. I could feel his hand relax in mine. "I can see where your coming from. I never felt that way about you, or any slave, in fact. I always saw you as people. I gave you a real bed, I tried my best to save you. Can't you see I'm not the bad guy?" 

"Yes, I see that now. I couldn't have known before though. My last master was not a good man. He would beat us, abuse us, he would do whatever he pleased. You are different, I know that, I see that now, which is why I told you about my plan. I did that in trust, maybe even love," I explained. 

Brendon looked at me, and neither of us said anything else. Everything had already been said. He moved his free hand up to my face and moved some hair out of my face. We were still pretty lost, but we had a compass now, the first step to not being lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to anyone who might have been waiting for this. I really need to get these chapters up faster, I promise that won't happen again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The path is long and rough, but is it worth it?

The road to Spencer's town was a long one. In reality, it could have probably been walked in two days, but with Brendon and I, that was definitely not the case. Maybe if it was a nice even path, but with the hills and rocks that came along with this one, it took us five days. 

After the third day, when Brendon discovered we were way behind schedule, I felt defeated. Brendon, on the other hand, laughed insanely. 

"We're so weak, it's pitiful. I at least have an excuse, I'm a spoiled little rick kid. You don't on the other hand! You've been working your entire life!" He exclaimed between giggles. His laughing took the little breath that was left out of him, which caused him to sit down, still chuckling. I guess he had to find the good in any bad. 

"You were such a weak master, I'm out of shape now," I joked, then sat down and nudged his shoulder. He smiled brightly back at me, genuinely amused. 

Since we had talked, we understood each other a bit more, and we were comfortable again. This playfulness was easy and natural. 

After that we did out best to pick up the pace, and by two days later, Brendon finally called out in joy, and pointed at a sign that I had no idea of the meaning of. Brendon remember my lack of reading skills and vocalized, "It's Spencer's town, we're here, finally!" 

I smiled and against my better judgment, hugged him, in the exposed pathway. Brendon hesitated slightly, looking around for signs of other people, before hugging me back, unable to resist doing it. 

"C'mon," he said after a moment, "let's find Spencer." 

Jon had given us a nice description of Spencer's House and how to get to it, so it was easy enough to find. Spencer, on the other hand, was much harder to find. He wasn't in his house, which wasn't that unusual, since he probably had work, and it was still midday. We probably had hours to wait until his return. 

"Should we go in anyways?" Brendon questioned after discovering the door was unlocked. 

"That wouldn't be a good first impression, breaking into someone's house and them asking them to hide you," I reasoned. 

"We're not going to make a good impression anyways, we're a master and a slave in love, not to mention we're both male, so it probably doesn't matter much after that," Brendon argued. He had a point, and even though mine was probably better, I went with him. We went into the house quickly, hopefully escaping any wondering eyes. 

Spencer's house was nice, maybe not as spacious as Brendon's, but it didn't need to be for a single, young man. It was fairly neat for not having any slaves to clean up after him also. That was one thing Jon had told us about Spencer, that he didn't have slaves and thought keeping a slave was wrong, and that everyone was a person and deserved to be treated like one. It was a radical view, but for our situation it would be extremely helpful. Jon had believed Spencer would be very open to us, because he was an all around good guy. We had to hope for that much, especially after sneaking into his house. 

Brendon attempted to go for the food right away, but I managed to stop him. "We've already crossed the line, do not go to far, we need this, okay?" 

He smiled wickedly, "Since we already crossed the line, does it really matter if we go just a bit farther?" 

I returned his smile, "Yes, it does." I wasn't going to let him have his way this time. "Besides, we still have leftover food that Jon gave us." 

"But I'm sick of that food, Ryan, it all tastes the same and it's all nasty." 

I could've told him that was the story of most of the meals I had ever had, but I wasn't cruel. Brendon was raised very differently than I had been, and for him this was actually extremely difficult, he wasn't just whining. 

"I know, I know," I said, patting his arm. "Maybe Spencer will give us some food when he gets home. For now lets just sit down somewhere and not mess with anything." 

Brendon listened to my advice and sat on the first chair he found, and soon after pulled me down with him, onto his lap. We stayed like that for awhile, telling stories between the two of us, some real, some fiction, until the door opened, and a young man walked in. 

"Holy shit," he said when he saw us. I guessed the surprise was more from the two strangers in his house than the fact that we were cuddling together, although I had no way to be sure. 

"Before you freak out, let me explain," Brendon hurried to say. I, on the other hand, hurried to one of the bags we had and pulled out the letter Jon had written to Spencer. 

"Don't let him explain," I said, handing the man, Spencer, the letter, "let this." 

Spencer stared at me for a long second, analytical and intense, before taking the letter and reading it. While he did that, I returned to Brendon's side. 

"I could've explained," Brendon pouted playfully. 

"Not before he'd run away to find someone to arrest us," I returned. 

"Your lack of faith in me, what a shame," he said. 

"So, you guys are together? For sexual things?" Spencer asked from across the room, surprising both Brendon and I. 

"No," Brendon declared immediately. "Well, I mean, that too, but that's not it. I love him." 

Brendon was strong and clear, not backing down at all. He stared at Spencer, waiting for the reply, while Spencer stared back, somewhat confused. Finally, Spencer said, "Alright, I believe you, and if you really do love him, I can understand why you guys did what you did. I'll help you." 

Brendon's hard gaze melted into a huge smile, and he practically leaped on Spencer, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much you're helping us, oh god, I though both of us were going to die, or at least Ryan would, because my parents would find a way to save me, but I couldn't watch him be murdered, it would destroy me. I couldn't go with out him now that I have him, it be terrible." 

Brendon probably would've continued to babble on, but Spencer pulled away from the hug. "I'd like to know your story, more in depth and in your views, not just Jon's, but sorry, you guys are a mess right now, why don't you get a bath?" 

I nodded shyly while Brendon smiled enthusiastically, "That's just what I need, pal." 

Spencer looked up at his ceiling, in a look that said more than words could. It was one of those, what have I gotten myself into looks. It was not cruel, though, more confused, questioning. 

"Ryan, come on, let's get clean!" Brendon exclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, just last chapter I said I wouldn't never take so long to update again. Whoops. But I feel like writing again, I miss it a lot, and I had stopped because I wasn't confident in my skill, but eh, I know I suck, I enjoy this anyways. So, I'm not sure how many more chapters, but we're probably on the downward slide for this one. Expect another update sooner rather than later.


	13. Chapter 13

Brendon decided that taking a bath meant both of us taking a bath, together. I immediately refused, clearly being the only one out of the two of us to have any form of common sense. Since I denied him of his wish, I let him take the first bath while I waited for him. 

About an hour later, both Brendon and I were clean and dressed, and we went back out to talk to Spencer. To my surprise, Spencer had cooked us dinner. I was pretty sure he didn't have any slaves, so he would have had to prepared the meal himself. 

"Did you make all this food?" I asked. 

Spencer nodded. 

"That is amazing. You should help me teach Brendon how to take care of himself," I joked, hoping to make this situation a little less awkward. 

Spencer smiled slightly while Brendon whined, "Oh come on, I'm not that bad!" 

"Sure, Bren, whatever you say," I replied. 

"I was thinking you two could tell me your story while we had dinner," Spencer said, "Does that sound okay?" 

We nodded and sat down at Spencer's table. 

"I can start," Brendon said as he swallowed a bit of food. 

Spencer nodded his approval. 

"I was born into an extremely wealthy family, and we always had everything we wanted. As I was growing up, we always had a full staff of slaves. My parents always made sure to tell me that they were less than I was, that they were barely even human, if they were at all. I had trouble believing them, because I had grown up with these slaves, and they were probably better parents than my own were. I saw everyone as people, as most children did, but the prejudice of my parents and others didn't wear off on my like it did to most kids. 

So when I was old enough to finally move out on my own, at first I didn't have any slaves, and I really didn't want any. I was too nice, I couldn't be mean to my slave, make them do terrible things, and take away their feeling of being human. I wasn't really taking an activist side of the situation though, I had plenty of friends who had slaves and I would see them... I'll just say treating them poorly, and I never did anything, I never said anything. 

Eventually it got to the point where I needed a slave. I was never taught to really take care of myself, and I was also expected to get one, and my parents were starting to be suspicious to why I didn't have. One day I ended up at a slave auction. Half of the day passed and I still hadn't worked up the nerve to buy a slave, I couldn't quite stomach it, but then I saw the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. 

That's when another factor comes in. I was never attracted to females, I had always been partial to men. I was completely ashamed by that, no one even did anything of that nature, and those who did were just nasty rumors. I always hid those feelings, except for the one time I acted on it, and I bought a slave. I felt so stupid after doing I did it that I tried my best to treat Ryan how I was taught to treat slaves, but I failed. Eventually I gave up, end let myself feel how I desired. And luckily for me, Ryan didn't actually hate me. At least, after awhile he began to feel the same way. But then, one day, my friend's son happened to witness us doing a forbidden act, and of course he went back to tell his father. He then went to gather a group, and they were coming to do something to us. I'm not sure what they would've done to me, but I'm certain Ryan would have been beaten to death.

Luckily for us, my friend, your friend, also, Jon, came to find us quickly and managed to get us out of town before they could get us. Then we came here," Brendon said, finishing his half of the story. 

Now it was my turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, I'm sorry, but there is more to come soon. Thanks to everyone who has read this story, and thanks to those of you have been waiting for this, I'm sorry it took so long.


End file.
